


Fugu

by smarshtastic



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Gen, M/M, mckirk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has a very adventurous appetite, and continuously drags Bones along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fugu

**Author's Note:**

> Mild language. Bones is grumpy. What else is new?

Jim was fearless. Leonard had never seen Jim back down from a fight - even though there were many, many times he should have; outmatched or outnumbered, Jim still fought and, usually, left it to Leonard to patch him up. The man was certifiably insane, if you asked Leonard. When they talked about space jumps in class one day, Leonard swore he saw stars in Jim’s eyes. He flew around campus on a damn motorcycle, for god’s sake. Those things were a worse death trap than the tin cans they launched into the black. Leonard wondered if Jim ever did anything normally, safely.

The truth was, Jim grew up in Iowa – the most boring state in the country, if you asked him. Twenty two years of corn and dust. At least when he was a teenager he made it marginally more interesting with all manner of delinquent behavior. Though, there were only so many times you could take a tractor for a joyride before it got old.

Living in San Francisco proved to be an interesting change of pace. There were still the fights (they seemed to be inevitable – they followed Jim wherever he went), there was still the reckless driving. But one of the things that Jim found most new and exciting was the food.

Jim hadn’t had a lot of food growing up. He was scrawny, and his mother hadn’t vested that much interest in his well-being, especially when Frank came into the picture. The food he did have was pretty bland – good old American staples that have endured for centuries. So when he came to San Francisco, and was suddenly confronted by all manner of foods, Earth and otherwise, Jim wanted to try everything available.

He was lucky, at least, that he had an excellent metabolism – PT helped with that. But Jim had resolved to try something new at least once a week, and the city seemed to have endless possibilities. There was always something new to sample.

This was how Jim learned about many of his food allergies. It fell to Leonard to come with Jim on these food adventures, to make sure Jim didn’t eat something he was allergic to and go into anaphylaxis shock.

“You’re playing Russian roulette, Jim,” Leonard was saying as they walked down the street away from the Academy. There was a nip in the air that reminded Leonard that he wasn’t in balmy Georgia any more. “You’re holding a gun to your head, but it’s made out of weird cheeses and meats and all sorts of strange shit – “

Jim laughed out loud. “You make it sound like I’m some suicidal maniac, Bones,” he said, eyes bright.

“You are!” Leonard said. “If I didn’t come with you –“

“Then I wouldn’t be here,” Jim shrugged. “This is good for both of us – I get to try all sorts of new things, without actually jumping out of a shuttle or something, and you get to try new things too, and practice all that doctoring you do.”

Leonard was long suffering. He followed Jim to every new place, anti-histamines pilfered from the hospital ready in his pocket. He can’t count the number of times Jim’s throat has closed up right in front of him, or broken out in hives. There were a of couple harrowing experiences when Leonard had to take Jim into the hospital to get his stomach pumped, but that was after some really questionable alien food that Leonard knew was trouble.  
They had both had several cases of food poisoning too; taking turns hunched over the toilet in their shared dorm room while the other sought relief in the cool tile on their cheek. It was one of the many things that had brought the two men together.

So, naturally, Leonard was feeling more than a little wary about the night’s adventure.

“We’re expanding our horizons,” Jim was saying. “Boldly going and all that – that’s what we, as Starfleet officers in training, are supposed to be doing, isn’t it?”

Leonard blinked at Jim in disbelief. Jim’s grin widened. “After you, Bones,” Jim said, tugging open the door to a surprisingly safe-looking restaurant. Or, at least safer than some of the other places Jim had dragged him to (there was a frightening incident quite recently at a small, possibly illegal Yridian restaurant after which Leonard insisted they verify the legitimacy of the establishments Jim wanted to go to prior to visiting. Jim had thought the whole thing was wildly entertaining, though, after that particular incident, he took Leonard to much safer, Earth food places).

“What is this place?” Leonard asked, looking around. The decorations were faintly Asian inspired, but Leonard’s limited experience with ethnic foods couldn’t tell him what part of Asia the paper and wood room dividers were from.

“Ozumo,” Jim said. He spoke briefly with the tiny girl at the hostess stand and then they were being led to a sort of counter area where chefs were standing around, but Leonard saw no stoves or anything nearby. They sat down at the counter and Jim looked eagerly at what was behind the low glass wall separating them from the chefs.

“Where’re the stoves?” Leonard asked, leaning forward to look at what was laid out behind the glass.

“It’s sushi, Bones –“

“Oh hell no, Jim! That’s raw fish!” Leonard protested. Now he realized what it was he was looking at; filets of fish all laid out over the counter. He didn’t know much about – was it Chinese or Japanese? Or something else? – but he knew sushi meant raw fish, and there wasn’t any way he was going to eat raw fish.

“Bones! Come on – we’ve had way worse. At least this is Earth food,” Jim nodded, picking up a menu. “What d’you think fugu is? It’s got its own special section and everything…”

Leonard picked up the menu, trying to contain his apprehension, but Jim read it all over his face. “I’m not eating raw fish, Jim. That’s just – that’s not right.”

“Look, we’ll just try a couple of things. If you don’t like it, we’ll get you something safer after. A burger, I’ll buy it. Just try this with me, yeah?” Jim grinned at the older man. Leonard made a face.

“You sweet-talking bastard,” Leonard shook his head. “Why I ever agreed to do this with you…”

“We’ve had good times doing this, Bones,” Jim insisted, looking back at his menu.

“If you call good times stomach pumping, food poisoning and a near-death experience or two,” Leonard made a face. Jim nudged him.

“Oh, shut up. Most of that only happened to me,” Jim said dismissively. Leonard hid his face behind the menu – as true as what Jim said was, it was hard for the older man to see Jim on that hospital bed, though he couldn’t admit to himself why that was.

“What’re we ordering then?” Leonard grumbled after a moment or two. The strange words on the menu made no sense to him, and if he picked something at random, there was no telling what he might end up getting. He was pretty sure he saw octopus tentacles behind the glass. At least he hoped it was octopus. Leonard shuddered.

“A little bit of everything, I think,” Jim said, setting his menu down. He leaned forward and had a short conversation with one of the chefs behind the glass.

“Nothing too crazy!” Leonard interjected nervously. The chef laughed and nodded and went away. Jim grinned at Leonard.

“Don’t worry, Bones. If you hate it I’ll buy you a burger, I promise.”

Leonard made a face at the younger man, who only grinned wider. The things he let Jim get him into, honestly.

A waitress brought them over a little carafe and two small glasses. “Sake,” she said, pouring them each a cup. “Rice wine, very good. Enjoy!”

Jim raised the little glass. “Cheers, Bones!” He knocked back the glass like a shot while Leonard sniffed at it suspiciously. Jim made an appreciative face at the little cup. “Strong!”

Leonard took a tentative sip and made a face. It was strong but not necessarily unpleasant. Jim was already pouring himself another. The chef came back with two big plates overflowing with all sorts of little rolls and slices of fish and other things which Leonard couldn’t identify immediately.

“One more – if you’re feeling adventuresome tonight?” the chef asked. Leonard groaned.

“Don’t ask that, he’s always feeling adventuresome,” Leonard said. Jim’s eyes were already wide with excitement; he nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh yes, definitely,” Jim said. The chef laughed at Jim’s eagerness, or maybe at Leonard’s apprehension.

“Good – very good. Try the green stuff,” the chef said, pointing to a lump of green paste on the side of the plate which Leonard thought might be avocado. “Do you like spicy things?”

“Very much so,” Jim nodded more.

“Wasabi – Japanese horseradish. Just dab a little on each piece, a little goes a long way,” the chef said before slipping away to get the special dish.

Jim looked at Leonard, who was looking slightly horrified. “Jim – this is all raw fish,” he said. The younger man laughed. He smeared some of the green paste on a piece of pink fish – salmon, maybe – and popped it into his mouth.

“Huh,” Jim said, still chewing. He swallowed. “Weird. Spicy. Try it.” Jim nodded encouragingly and picked up another piece, giving it the same treatment. There was a weird, kind of rough feeling in the back of his throat. He figured it was just the spicy paste stuff, so he had some more of the rice wine too.

Leonard didn’t go straight for the slices of raw fish like Jim did, but instead went for something colorful and wrapped up in rice – at least it looked like there were vegetables in it or something. He didn’t smear any of the green stuff on it; he could leave that to Jim, at least for now.

Jim paused to watch Leonard eat his first bite of sushi. “Well?” Jim asked, watching as Leonard chewed and swallowed very slowly.

“It’s not terrible,” Leonard replied grudgingly. Jim laughed delightedly and raised his little cup of rice wine to him.

“Cheers, Bones!” He pointed at some other rolls on the plate, some of which had tiny orange colored balls on top. “What d’you think those are?”

Leonard shook his head, reaching for another safe-looking roll. “Try it and tell me, you crazy bastard.”

Jim chuckled and picked up one of the pieces with the round, semi-transparent balls. “Ooh,” he said, chewing. “Salty – they kind of pop in your mouth.”

“That sounds disgusting,” Leonard said.

“Bones! Come on! Try it!” Jim picked up another piece and waves it in Leonard’s face.

“Augh – no, stop!”

The chef cleared his throat. Jim blinked and popped the piece he was trying to force on Bones into his mouth. Chuckling, the chef presented a rather beautiful plate to Jim and Leonard: thinly sliced bits of something arranged in a sort of chrysanthemum pattern on the plate. Leonard thought he could see the pattern of the dish through the pieces.

“What is this?” Jim asked, peering closely at the plate. “How’d you get it so thin?”

“Fugu,” the chef said, puffing his chest out a little. “Pufferfish. It can be lethally poisonous if prepared incorrectly.”

Jim laughed at Leonard’s expression; it looked like his eyes were going to fall out of his head. “Let’s hope you prepared it correctly, then!” Jim said, reaching for a piece of fish. Leonard batted at Jim’s hand.

“Jim! Don’t!”

“Bones, do you really think this fine man would be working here if he didn’t know what he was doing?”

Leonard faltered at that. “No, but –“

“It’s fine!”

“You don’t know that!”

Jim rolled his eyes, picked up a bit of the fish and swallowed it before Leonard could say anything else. Jim thought Leonard might be going apoplectic judging from the color his face turned. He swallowed and looked at the chef.

“How long before I die then?” Jim asked, clearing his throat.

The chef laughed. “You’d know pretty fast. It closes up your throat.”

“Well, good thing I brought a doctor, huh?” Jim coughed for effect and nudged Leonard, who was watching Jim with bulging eyes.

“Damn it, Jim!”

Jim laughed and had another piece of the fish. “Come on, Bones. I don’t think this fine man is trying to kill us.”

Leonard shook his head and reached for one of the rice rolls, still keeping an eye on Jim. Jim chatted brightly with the chef, eating from the plate of poisonous fish and the plate with the other, non-poisonous fish too. Leonard made a face, but Jim didn’t seem to be dying.

“Do you want some teriyaki?” the chef asked Leonard after a few minutes of observing him. Leonard was very carefully trying to peel back a bit of fish from a lump of sticky rice.

“What’s that?” he asked, suspicious. “Is it poisonous?”

The chef laughed. “No, no – Chicken or beef grilled with a sweet soy marinade. Very safe.”

Leonard blinked. “Oh – that sounds okay, I guess.”

Jim chuckled as he spread more of the green paste over some slices of fish. Leonard nudged him. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Raw fish isn’t my thing, Jim. Though it is apparently yours, you savage.”

“Hey! The Japanese have eaten this for centuries – that is offensive.”

Leonard rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You’re still crazy for eating the poison fish.”

“It’s tasty, Bones, try it. Just a little piece. I’m fine, aren’t I?” Jim picked up one of the thin bits of fish. Leonard hesitated. He could see Jim’s blue eyes through the slice.

“Yes, but – “

“I’ll pay for your dinner, come on, just try it?”

“Jim –“

“Bones.”

Leonard sighed and plucked the fish out of Jim’s fingers. “Fine. But you’re paying for dinner,” Leonard said and popped the slice into his mouth. It was cool and strange and the texture was vaguely unpleasant. He swallowed without chewing and felt his heart rate pick up, nervous that he was going to stop breathing.

“Bones –Bones, come on, breathe normally,” Jim said, patting his shoulder. “Look at you, being all adventurous.”

“Jim, I’m going to punch you if you don’t shut up,” Leonard said after a moment. Jim chuckled and then cleared his throat. The chef set a plate of beef teriyaki down in front of the doctor.

“On the house,” the chef said with a wink. “For risking your life.”

Leonard made a face, but the beef was actually delicious. Jim stole a couple of pieces from his plate (“Hey, that’s mine!” “I’m paying for it!” “He said it was on the house!”), and the rest of the meal was very enjoyable. They even had some pan fried dumplings which Leonard also seemed to like quite a bit.

As they were finishing their food, Jim found himself clearing his throat more and more. The rough scratchy feeling that Jim had noticed at the beginning of the meal was getting stronger. He glanced at Leonard, who looked much more relaxed than he had earlier. That was Leonard for you; give him a hunk of meat, and he was right at home. Not much for adventuresome eating. Jim wondered, not for the first time, why Leonard tolerated these outings.

The bill came and Jim paid for it without a second thought, even though Leonard tried to pay for his half, now feeling much better about this whole experience. Jim coughed.

“Nope, I promised,” Jim said. He reached for his glass of water. “You can pay for it next time.”

Leonard made a face but let Jim pay. They said good bye to the friendly sushi chef and walked out into the cool night. Jim coughed again as they started walking back to the Academy, at his collar, which was suddenly feeling too tight. After a few blocks, Jim realized he knew this feeling.

“Bones,” Jim said, coughing again. “Don’t freak out.”

Leonard stopped in his tracks; even in the semi-darkness, Jim could see the color drain out of his face. He gave him a wheezy chuckle.

“I said don’t freak out.”

“Jim,” Leonard said, his voice low and dangerous. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you have the anti-histamine hypo?”

“Jim!”

Jim coughed. “Do you or don’t you?” Jim wheezed. “Because – ‘cause I think I need it –“

“Damn it Jim!” Leonard whipped the hypo out of his jacket pocket and pressed it to Jim’s neck. Jim winced and sighed.

“Ah – thanks. Must’ve been something – Oof – “ Leonard had grabbed him and was trying to flag down a cab. “Bones, what the hell –“

“It was that damn fish! He said it closes up your throat!”

“I know – but that’s not – I feel better! The hypo helped!”

“I’m not taking any chances, Jim. Why the hell aren’t there any cabs around here?”

Eventually, Leonard managed to get Jim to the hospital on campus, despite all Jim’s protests. Leonard hooked Jim up to all the usual machines, wanting to make certain that the stupid raw fish wasn’t killing his best friend.

“I told you eating raw fish was a bad idea,” Leonard grumbled, running a tricorder over Jim, who batted at the device. “And then you had to go and eat the poison fish! What’s wrong with you!”

“Nothing! I’m fine!”

“Your heart rate’s elevated,” Leonard said, throwing down the tricorder. “Open your mouth so I can take a look at your throat.”

“It’s just allergies, I probably had something that I’m allergic to – “

“Or POISONOUS. FISH!”

Jim let Leonard work – there was no point in arguing with him now. Leonard ranted and raved at Jim, running tests, drawing blood, keeping an eye on his stats. After a while, Leonard’s ranting subsided into a placated grumbling.

“You’re not dying,” Leonard concluded grudgingly. Jim rolled his eyes.

“I told you.”

“But you were definitely allergic to something there,” Leonard went on, ignoring Jim for the moment. He went to a cabinet and riffled around for a moment, then came up with what Jim not-so-fondly referred to as the Pokey-Scratchy Device of Doom. “We’ve gotta figure this out, Jim.”

Jim eyed the PSDD warily. “I’m pretty sure it was before the poisonous fish, Bones.”

“I’m not taking any chances, who knows what you were eating – maybe it was those weird orange balls that looked like fishing bait,” he said, pressing some buttons on the device. “Hold out your arm.”

Jim winced as the evil thing scratched at his skin. One line swelled up fairly quickly. “What’s that?” he asked, lifting a hand to scratch at the welt. Leonard smacked his hand away.

“That damn green stuff,” Leonard said, making a note in Jim’s already ample medical file. He pressed another anti-histamine hypo to Jim’s neck.

“Really?” Jim’s face fell. “I liked it. It was spicy.”

“Well you’re allergic.”

“Well, shit.”

Leonard rolled his eyes and started turning off the monitors. “Next time, I get to pick the place.”

“You’ll pick some place that peddles fried chicken or something,” Jim said as slipped down from the bed. “I’ve had fried chicken. That’s boring.”

“It’s safe. Nobody’s allergic to fried chicken,” Leonard pointed out. Jim waved a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah – you’ll pay then,” he said, rubbing at the injection site. Leonard pushed and shoved Jim out of the hospital room, his gruffness covering his relief.

“Deal.”


End file.
